


Conversations I thru III

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-09-30
Updated: 1999-09-30
Packaged: 2018-11-20 19:04:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11341461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived atThe Basement, which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onThe Basement's collection profile.





	Conversations I thru III

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Conversations I: Here to Gloat by Rosalita

Conversations I: Here to Gloat  
by Rosalita  
  
Mulder/Skinner. Implied Mulder/Krycek  
Rated PG.   
Fox Mulder and Walter Skinner belong to Chris Carter and FOX Broadcasting. I'm borrowing them without permission. I promise to return them more or less in the condition I found them. No copyright infringement is intended.  
Feedback appreciated and answered at . Flamers will receive a dedication in my next story so make it good.

* * *

Conversations I: Here to Gloat  
by Rosalita

"Tearing your heart out over Fox Mulder, hmm? Man, have I been there."

Walter Skinner swivelled his head to see Alex Krycek, of all fucking people, bellying up to the bar beside him. 

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he asked and briefly considered shooting him, but he was entirely too tired to deal with the paperwork.

"It's a bar, Skinner. I'm having a beer." 

Skinner considered the black leather-clad fugitive from the law. "You've got balls, I'll grant you that. The FBI, the Consortium, and probably the Intergalactic Space Patrol are all after your ass, and you just stroll into a bar in the middle of DC and order a Sam Adams. By the way, it isn't lost on me that that's Mulder's favorite brand."

Krycek just smiled and took a deliberate swallow of his beer. "So what did *you* do to lose him?"

"I had him committed, but you already know that." Of course Krycek knew, just as Skinner was well aware that Krycek still kept tabs on his former partner and lover. 

Krycek nodded. "I just wanted to see if you'd admit it." 

"So you're here to gloat?"

"No, I'm here to tell you that you can get him back."

Bullshit. Skinner sighed loudly and ordered another gin and tonic. Maybe if he ignored Krycek, he'd leave and Skinner would be left to drink himself stupid in peace. 

No such luck.

"I know what it's like, Skinner," Krycek was confiding. "I know what it's like to want to protect him. I know what it's like to want to kill every bastard who has ever hurt him."

"Yourself included?"

Krycek ignored the comment. "You hurt him, too. But I'm willing to overlook it . . ."

"You can't have him, Krycek," Skinner blurted out, rounding on the other man. 

"I'm painfully aware of that." Krycek's voice was soft and sad. Standing, he threw a few bills on the bar. 

He leaned in close to Skinner. "Don't make the same mistake I made. Beg him to take you back." 

Krycek walked away, leaving Skinner to contemplate the empty bottle of Sam Adams on the bar, it's label peeled half off. Little bits of paper littered the counter. 

Goddammit. Mulder did that, too.

End.

9/26/98

 

* * *

 

Conversations II: At the Beginning  
A Missing Scene  
by Rosalita  
  
Mulder/Skinner.   
Rated R for m/m interaction. No sex.   
Fox Mulder and Walter Skinner belong to Chris Carter and FOX Broadcasting. I'm borrowing them without permission. I promise to return them more or less in the condition I found them. No copyright infringement is intended.  
Feedback appreciated and answered at . Flamers will receive a dedication in my next story so make it good.

* * *

Conversations II: At the Beginning  
A Missing Scene.  
by Rosalita

Everything about Fox Mulder was unique--right down to his characteristic knock on Skinner's door. There was a pattern to it--two raps in quick succession, then a pause followed by two, more slowly-paced knocks. It never varied. Skinner often wondered if there was a significance behind it or if Mulder was even aware that he did it. Did he knock on all doors this way or just his? 

Skinner stood aside to let his lover enter the apartment. Mulder wore dirty jeans, a torn sweatshirt, and a sullen look. Skinner groaned inwardly. This was liable to get ugly. "I didn't think you'd come tonight."

"Neither did I," Mulder said, heading for Skinner's liquor cabinet. 

Skinner eyed the other man as Mulder poured a good amount of vodka in a glass and drained it. As he started to pour another, Skinner said, "I thought you were cutting back."

Without turning, Mulder answered, "I have. This is the first drink I've had all week. But I think after the day I've had, I deserve a couple, don't you? After all, how often do I get betrayed by my lover and by my best friend in the same day?" He toasted Skinner mockingly and drained the glass as quickly as he had the first. 

Skinner made it across the room just in time to stop him from filling the glass a third time. "Is this where I get another lecture about my drinking?" Mulder asked with a sneer that made Skinner want to slap him hard, or kiss him hard. He wasn't sure which. What the hell was it about this man that drove him to violence and to passion at the same time? 

"I don't want it to become a problem for you." He'd seen it all too often. Good agents who fell into the bottom of a bottle. It had nearly happened to him once. He didn't want it to happen to Mulder and Mulder's obsessive-compulsive personality might make his fall all the quicker.

"It won't." 

He'd heard that all too often, too.

"If you want to talk to me, you can stay. If you want to get drunk, get the hell out and do it somewhere else. I'm not in the mood for dealing with it tonight." Mulder glared at him but he moved away from cabinet and into the living room. Skinner followed him, watching Mulder's jittery movements. "Which is it going to be?" 

Mulder paced the length of the room, seemingly weighing his options. "I want to talk," he said finally.

"Then, talk." 

"Why, goddammit? Why?" It burst forth like a dam suddenly giving way to the pressure of all that water behind it. "Why did you vote against me?"

Mulder was in his face, and Skinner took a step back, trying to regain a little space.

"I had no choice," he said calmly. "It killed me to do it, but it wouldn't have mattered if I had voted for you. The others would never trust me again. I can't help you if I'm on the outside." 

"I don't see how you've helped me so far."

It had only been one day, the ungrateful little . . . "I got you that damned file, didn't I?" 

Mulder plopped down on the couch and folded his arms, looking for all the world like a sulking child. All he needed was to thrust out his lip. Ah, there it was, the finishing touch. 

"So it's going to be like it was the first time? You sneaking me cases when you can. Me fighting tooth and fucking nail to get back my life. My life, Walter, not my job!" 

"No, it won't be like the first time. I have a feeling I won't be your boss much longer."

Mulder snorted softly and shook his head. "Well, I suppose there are certain advantages to that. We won't have to hide as much. Maybe I'll just quit the Bureau," he mused.

Mulder seemed to be winding down, finally. Skinner sat beside him on the couch and put an arm around him, drawing him in. "You're not going to quit."

"I'm not?" Mulder settled onto Skinner's chest. 

"No. You're going to take that file that I so generously told you about and you so deviously stole, and you're going to Phoenix and investigate those murders. You're taking Scully with you and together you're going to get that evidence."

Mulder was silent for a moment, then, "Walter."

"Hmmm?"

"Stop talking and fuck me."

"No."

"No?" Mulder drew back, disbelief all over his face. "I've never heard you say no, Walter. And I gotta tell you, I don't much like it."

"You're tired, Mulder. You've had a long day, and you need sleep more than you need sex." 

That lower lip drooped in another pout, this one sexy instead of annoying, and Skinner couldn't resist it. He moved in to nip at it before covering Mulder's mouth with his own and sliding his tongue over the softness and into the wet warmth. He explored his lover's mouth as if he'd never been there before, presenting this kiss to Mulder as a reaffirmation. 

Mulder accepted it and the long kiss intensified until Skinner had to pull away before he lost control and gave Mulder what he'd asked for.

Mulder groaned in disappointment and tried for another kiss. It took all of Skinner's willpower to push him away. "Bed, Mulder. And I mean sleep."

"Okay, but you owe me big time."

"Yes," Skinner said quietly. "I do."

End.

11/9/98

 

* * *

 

28 Nov 98  
Conversations III: Dreamer  
by Rosalita  
  
This is another installment in the occasional series of sometimes related--and sometimes not-- vignettes. This one more or less follows "At the Beginning." The other trifle in this series is "Here to Gloat." Both were previously posted in various places as untitled snippets and can be found at my website: [website address given by author no longer valid -- archivist].  
Summary: Skinner goes back to visit Mulder in the hospital. Harmless fluff, total unreality and major schmoopiness ensue. Post-Triangle.  
Fox Mulder and Walter Skinner belong to Chris Carter and FOX Broadcasting. I'm borrowing them without permission. I promise to return them more or less in the condition I found them. No copyright infringement is intended.  
Feedback appreciated and answered at . Flamers will receive a dedication in my next story so make it good.

* * *

Conversations III: Dreamer  
by Rosalita

His flowers were sitting closest to Mulder's bed, Skinner noted with satisfaction.

As he'd been the night before, Mulder lay curled on his side, the arm attached to the IV thrust away from his body. The poor guy had been in the hospital so often it was probably instinct to lie this way. Or maybe he'd been so exhausted and drugged that he'd been unable to move. What was that nonsense he'd been spouting last night about Nazis and ships? Only Mulder. 

He looked so sweet when he slept that you'd hardly believe the havoc he was capable of wreaking while awake. Short dark hair sticking up all over his head leant even more to the devilish little boy image. Skinner glanced around before giving in to the temptation to smooth it down. Still soft to the touch for its shortness, but Skinner longed for it to grow out. He missed running his fingers through the long dark strands as they sprawled on the sofa together watching television. Mulder looked great with short hair, but it just wasn't as satisfying to play with. 

Mulder stirred and looked up at him, a slow, groggy smile spreading across his face like a blinding sun on the rise. 

"Hi," he whispered hoarsely.

"Hi, brat," Skinner answered in a voice gentle with affection. "You scared the hell out of me."

"Sorry."

"No, you're not."

That sweet smile again, and Skinner wondered how he'd lived so long without it. 

"You're right, I'm not. It was incredible."

"It was a dream, Mulder." Mulder shook his head resolutely, but Skinner went on, "Or a hallucination brought on by the fact that you nearly drowned." Trying to keep his voice calm, trying hard not to convey how scared he'd been. How many times now had he nearly lost his lover? Too many to count, and it never got easier. 

He resisted the urge to shake some sense into the other man, to take him and hide him away so he'd never be hurt again, by himself or anyone else. But would a caged Mulder hold half the appeal that this one did? Probably not.

Mulder pushed himself up to make his point. "No, I was on the Queen Anne. In 1939. I got sent back in time. And you were there."

Hands on Mulder's shoulders, he pushed him back to the bed.

"I was? What was I doing?" Humor him, he thought, anything to keep him lying down.

"You were a Nazi."

"A Nazi? Gee, thanks." 

"You were a good Nazi."

"Thank God." Skinner wanted to laugh, but Mulder looked so serious, he just couldn't bring himself to do it. 

"You saved me," he was saying. "And Scully."

"Scully was there, too, huh?" Skinner asked as he hunted for a chair, found one that didn't look very comfortable and dragged it over by the bed.

"Yeah, so was Cancerman, Kersh, and that weasel Spender. I kissed her." Skinner jolted a little and wondered if Mulder was pulling his leg. The younger man still looked completely serious, if a little zonked. 

"Really? Was she any good?"

"Not as good as you. She hit me." Mulder rubbed a spot near his left eye; Skinner didn't see anything there. 

"I'm not surprised." 

Eyelids that had been drooping for the last few minutes slipped shut and Mulder's breathing slowed, leading Skinner to believe he was falling back asleep.

Seconds later, the eyelids flew open and dazed hazel eyes widened in what looked like terror. Mulder bolted upright and uttered, "Oh my God!" 

Skinner's chair took a dive as he launched himself out of it, searching for the call button. "What is it? Are you in pain? What's wrong?"

Mulder turned toward him slowly and swallowed, "I told Scully I loved her."

Skinner relaxed, mentally cursing Mulder for scaring the hell out of him. He righted the chair and dropped back into it. "That was some dream."

"No, last night after you and the guys left. Oh shit."

"You were pretty gone last night." Skinner threw back his head and whooped with laughter. Or as close as he came to whooping. "I'd pay to see the look on her face. You're lucky she didn't shoot you again."

"It's not funny, Walter," Mulder pouted and laid back in the bed.

"Is there something you want to tell me about you and Scully?" He knew it was wrong after what Mulder had been through, but he couldn't help teasing him just a little. Revenge for scaring yet another year off his life.

"No," the other man said so earnestly that it nearly set Skinner off again. 

"It's okay, Mulder. I know you love Scully."

"You do?"

"Look, you two have been to hell and back together. Of course you love her."

A bewildered look crossed Mulder's face. Perhaps perversely, Skinner loved that look.

"It doesn't bother you?"

"You're not planning to leave me for her, are you?"

"No, God no. I love her, but working with Scully day in and day out is enough. Not to mention the nights and weekends."

Smiling inwardly at his lover's reassurance, Skinner said, "Then I'm not worried."

Mulder let out a breath of relief and slid over in the bed, patting its surface as he did so. "Hey, come here."

Skinner cast a nervous glance at the door. "What if someone comes in?"

Shrug. "What if someone does?"

"You're still drugged." Nevertheless, Skinner climbed up on the bed, being careful not to pull on the IV, and took Mulder into his arms. 

"I know. I feel pretty good." Loopy smile up at him, and Skinner's heart missed a beat. 

"You sure do."

End

11/23/98

===  
Rosalita!  
The Smutty Senorita


End file.
